


I Missed You

by lemoncellbros



Series: Merlin [1]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Adding Tags as I Continue, Angst, Arthur Pendragon Returns (Merlin), M/M, Modern Era, Mordred Redemption, Multi, Old Merlin (Merlin), Reunions, morgana redemption
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-07-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:47:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 10,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25404841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lemoncellbros/pseuds/lemoncellbros
Summary: Merlin has spent years without Arthur Pendragon by his side. Then, one day, he rises again, but he is not the only one.
Relationships: Gwaine/Percival (Merlin), Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), past Gwen/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin) - Relationship
Series: Merlin [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1840279
Comments: 16
Kudos: 119





	1. Chapter 1

Tourists on the island of Avalon Lake are as numerous as the scales on a dragon’s back. Every September, schools set out across the rippling grey waters, listening to tales of Arthur, the Once and Future King. Every time they get off the bus, a teacher tells them the legend.  
“Arthur is rumoured to rise again when Albion needs him the most.”  
The kids snicker at the story, believing that they are far too old for it.  
It makes Merlin sick.  
It makes Merlin sick the way that they say his name, “Arthur”, as though he’s merely a passing fable of no importance. As though he isn’t real. As though he wasn’t the best man he ever knew.  
It makes Merlin sick the way they teach the children about Guinevere and Lancelot, as though she was a throwaway harlot, a seductress who couldn’t be stopped.  
It makes Merlin sick the way they never mention Gaius, or Gwaine, or Leon, or Elyan.  
It makes Merlin sick the way they tell the children that Morgana was always evil, that she and Mordred were horrible sorcerers with nothing else to them. Not that they were products of their situation.  
It makes Merlin sick the way they talk of him. “An old sorcerer”, “Arthur’s advisor”. Never Arthur’s friend. Never a young boy who had no idea what he was doing. 

In his cottage filled with herbs and ancient books, Merlin stares out the window every morning with a cup of tea (an invention which he particularly favours). He looks at the lake, hoping for a slight ripple or a hand waving at him from its depths. He never gets such satisfaction. 

Instead, Merlin takes walks. Once upon a time, he’d thought of getting a dog to feel less alone, but then he remembered that he would outlive it. Just as he’d outlived everything. So he did not get a dog. He runs an apothecary named after Gaius, and watches as people go in and out. Once or twice, he thinks he sees a familiar face, but he’s always wrong. After so many years, you start looking for old friends in everyone. 

Occasionally, children will come to his garden and beg for stories, for no one can tell them quite like him. He obliges them, of course, with tales of golden cloaks and goblins in barrels and a young shapeshifter. As always, one of the children will inevitably wish that these things could be real.  
“They were a long time ago,” Merlin always answers, “and perhaps one day they will come to pass once again.”  
Sometimes, Merlin almost thinks that he can see a flicker of gold in a child’s eyes. 

When he can muster up the courage, Merlin visits the graves made long ago for Gwaine and Morgana. Morgana’s is on a nearby hillside, preserved as a historical site. Many an archaeologist has tried to get the rights to excavate it, but they often find that something seems to be stopping them from doing so. Gwaine’s, on the other hand, is on the side of a road, with a pathetic little sign describing its purpose. It makes Merlin furious, but the city would not allow for more. 

There are more graves all across the country, all dug and labelled by Merlin, except for Elyan’s. His ashes still rise and fall with the currents of a river somewhere, and Merlin often visits it to think. Gwen’s grave is at the riverbank, dug centuries ago in the hope that the two siblings could find each other once again. The knights are all buried together in the ruins of Camelot, though Leon and Percival were both burned by their brothers. Merlin was present for every single one. 

And then of course there was Kilgarrah, who Merlin had finally said goodbye to in a mountain long ago. Stories of his death echoed through the neighbouring towns for ages, and Merlin suspects that Tolkien himself may have taken a trip to the mountain to see what all the fuss was about. Aithusar, too, is buried there, in a smaller cave. She died soon after Morgana, but Merlin knows deep down that she will rise again with Arthur. After all these years, he still has hope for Albion. 

At the moment, though, Merlin is not thinking of any of that. Rather, he is asleep in his bed, enjoying the press of the soft mattress against his old bones.  
He is woken by alarms.  
Immediately, he bolts awake and rushes to get dressed, running out the door with the speed of a man much younger. There is an ambulance racing past, sirens blaring. Merlin utters a quick incantation (one he invented after the introduction of Superman) that allows him to see inside the ambulance. Within, paramedics are rushing about a body that Merlin cannot yet see-there! Through the commotion, there is the flash of metal and the swish of a red cape. Merlin shudders and silently urges the paramedics to move aside, just a little. 

There, lying on the cot, is a blonde head with blue eyes and a strong chin, clad in chainmail. Merlin feels his knees buckle. He falls to the ground, and there are shouts from passerby as they rush to him. He barely takes note of this. He only knows one thought, one glimmering sentence full of hope that has finally brought him back his other half. 

Arthur has returned.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin visits Arthur in the hospital.

After a week of waiting, Merlin is finally allowed to see Arthur in the hospital. The doctors tell him his symptoms-hypothermia, possible amnesia, hallucinations, mania-and walk him in. Merlin has struggled with which form to take for days, but eventually decided on the one Arthur knows and trusts the most. Merlin walks into the cold, apathetic room with lanky legs and the strange smoothness of a shaven face. Merlin tugs at his red neckerchief as one of the nurses makes conversation with him (though he has no idea what she’s saying). 

Lying on the bed in a blue shift is the Once and Future King, eyes closed and a bit of applesauce on his chin. Merlin feels his heart swell with a fondness that he almost forgot he could feel.  
“Prat,” he whispers softly.  
It is only then that he realises the nurse is still talking to him.  
“Sorry?” She asks politely, barely managing to conceal her irritation.  
Merlin blinks and shakes himself out of it. “Uh, sorry. Not you, Arthur.”  
As though it will help, he makes a vague sort of wave towards the bed. The nurse fixes him with a look that reminds him so forcibly of Gaius that he nearly falls over.  
“Right. As I was saying, sir, your friend seems to be suffering from some sort of amnesia-induced hallucination. He believes himself to be King Arthur of Camelot, and, as you can see-“ she points to straps pinning Arthur’s hands and legs to the bed, and Merlin resists the urge to vomit- “we’ve had to restrain him. Whenever he wakes, he screams for someone called Merlin. Like the wizard!” The nurse chuckles in an incredulous way that makes Merlin’s magic roar with anger. At a much younger age he may have let it all loose with a flash, but he is older now, and represses the flames within his stomach with a practiced breath.  
“He’s scared,” Merlin says calmly. “He’s never been in a hospital before.”  
The nurse laughs again, and Merlin briefly thinks of taking a page from Morgana’s book.  
“Really? Never been to a hospital? Doesn’t he get injured?” She smiles at him as she checks Arthur’s IV drip, and Merlin resists an eye roll.  
“He does, but I usually heal him.”  
“Ah, you’re a doctor.” The nurse looks him up and down, and Merlin squirms. This old body is still awkward and skittish.  
“You look a bit young for it.”  
Merlin forces a laugh. “Well, I’m not quite a doctor. More of a physician.”  
The nurse stares blankly, and Merlin readies himself for a conversation he’s had a million times.  
“I don’t use shots and pills. I use herbs.” He states matter-of-factly, and it’s clear from the look on the nurse’s face that she thinks his profession a load of horse dung.  
She’s about to say something that Merlin expects will be ignorant, but-  
“MERLIN!”  
Merlin’s heart gives a jolt, as though it is starting again, renewed by the sound of Arthur’s voice.  
Arthur struggles furiously against his bonds, hissing at the nurse.  
“What have you done with my servant, witch?”  
The nurse rolls her eyes. “I’m not a witch, sir.”  
“Then where is he!?” He cries, pain in his eyes, and just like that Merlin is back in action.  
Merlin rushes to Arthur, placing his hands placatingly upon his and smiling at him, so filled with happiness that he could burst.  
“Arthur. Arthur, hey, relax.”  
Arthur’s blue eyes turn to him, wild with panic, and something in him melts as he recognises his servant.  
“Merlin,” he whispers, and then there are tears flowing from both of them, and for the first time in centuries, Arthur hugs him.  
Arthur lifts away from the hug when the nurse quietly slips out of the room, eyes still afraid.  
“Where are we?” He looks around at the tiny room, thick with the smell of alcohol and steriliser. Then, as if having a realisation, he stares down at himself.  
“Merlin, where are my clothes?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the second chapter! Please leave feedback, and I promise the next will be a bit more lighthearted.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin takes Arthur back to the cottage.

Two days after Merlin visited the hospital, Merlin takes Arthur home.   
He’s done his best to explain what happened through whispered talks beneath the nurse’s nose, but Arthur is struggling. When he gets into the car, he lets out a sob. Merlin understands, and says nothing, simply rubs his hand in circles on Arthur’s back. 

When they get to the cottage, Merlin puts the kettle on and settles Arthur’s bags in the spare room. Though Arthur doesn’t know it yet, his old clothes are hung and pressed with care in the closet, painstakingly preserved from centuries ago. Merlin takes a look in the closet and smiles a little, taking out the old brown coat that Arthur so loved. He returns to the living room to find Arthur curiously examining the objects in his fridge, and Merlin has an idea.   
“Arthur,” he says softly so as not to startle him, “I’ve got your coat.”   
Arthur turns around with so much hope in his eyes that Merlin wants to hold him forever, to keep him safe from this new world. Instead, Merlin holds up the coat with a tiny smile, and Arthur beams for the first time since leaving the lake.  
“How did you...” He starts, but his sentence quickly fades away, and the look in his eyes shows that he’s answered his own question. 

Merlin says nothing, only steps forward with the coat outstretched. Arthur’s eyes fill with an emotion he can’t quite place as he turns around. Merlin slowly, gently helps him into the coat, heart swelling at the familiar feeling of Arthur’s shoulders under his hands, of the slight tickle of his blonde hair as Merlin adjusts the collar. Arthur turns back to face Merlin, and Merlin grins as he straightens the front.   
“See?” He murmurs. “Not much has changed, even after a few centuries.”   
At this, Arthur lets out a choked laugh.   
“I’m glad.” He mutters, in the way Merlin remembers when he’s forcing himself to show his emotions.   
They linger in that moment for a bit, looking at each other in their old clothes, and for a second they are back in his chambers in Camelot, and Merlin half expects to go down to muck out the stables. 

They can’t stay in it forever, though. Merlin lets out a chuckle and pats Arthur on the back.   
“Come on,” he says, heading for the fridge. “I think it’s high time for you to try the foods of the new world.” 

The two of them sit in the kitchen for hours, bowls and cups laid out on the counter with different food and drink. Arthur charitably tries each and every one. When they get to the bread, he grimaces and spits it into Merlin’s trash can.   
“What’s wrong?” Merlin giggles at the expression on Arthur’s face, similar to the one when his father was courting a troll.  
“This,” Arthur sniffs, judgemental prince back in full force, “cannot be bread.”   
“I’m afraid it is, sire,” Merlin teases. “There’s this whole genetic cross breeding thing that’s gone and mucked up the wheat.”   
Arthur groans. “I’ll never eat a proper sandwich again.”   
Merlin snickers at Arthur’s wrinkled nose and hands him a slice of Brie. “Don’t worry, the French are still as traditional as ever. This should be more to your royal satisfaction.”   
Arthur eyes it suspiciously and takes a bite, then immediately spits it out as Merlin cackles. “Merlin, you know I hate soft cheeses!”   
“Couldn’t resist,” Merlin grins, and feels the youth flood back to him. Being with Arthur is healing, however slowly, the dull ache in his heart that he felt for so many years.   
He reaches across the table and hands Arthur a Crunch Bar. “Try it.”  
Arthur squints at him. “What is it?”  
“It’s chocolate.” Merlin shakes it at him insistently, and Arthur hesitantly takes it.   
Merlin, however, forgot that Arthur is a great idiot, and swoops to grab the bar when Arthur tries to take a bite, wrapped and all. Arthur’s face of pure confusion is so staggering that Merlin can’t help but laugh, the good kind that makes your sides ache and leaves you silently shaking. 

His laughter is so vigorous, in fact, that he falls off his stool and lands with a thump on the hardwood floor, which only makes him laugh harder. Soon, Arthur has joined him, both of them giggling and staring up at the ceiling, and feeling for the first time in a long while that he is home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was by far my favourite chapter to write so far. I really enjoyed writing that moment with the coat, and I hope you enjoyed reading it! As always, please leave feedback.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin and Arthur visit Morgana’s grave.

The next day, Merlin takes Arthur to see Morgana’s grave. He’s still in his brown coat, but Merlin has given him some more modern clothes to help him blend in with the townspeople. He’s tried to make them as similar to his old clothes as possible, having him wear a loose blue v-neck tucked into some jeans. He’s let Arthur keep his old boots on, and the combined look has a very odd effect. Most likely, passerby will think him a Londoner. 

Merlin, for his own part, is doing his best to keep himself looking as close as he can to the version of him Arthur knew in the Middle Ages. He’s got his red scarf (now less of a neckerchief and more of an infinity scarf, which he knows Gwen would tease him endlessly about), a dark blue t-shirt, a black coat, and jeans. Arthur seems fascinated by jeans, often wondering quietly aloud how they “fit so closely”. Merlin has to hold back a laugh at that. 

Nonetheless, Merlin has ensured that they are both comfortable for the day’s trip. Morgana’s grave is not a far walk away, but Merlin wants Arthur to feel as safe as possible so as to avoid more stress.   
The two of them set out on the path carved by Merlin ages ago, up the hill through the forest and straight to a little clearing, where a faded stone rests in the morning sun. Arthur lets out a small gasp when he sees it, and Merlin puts an arm around him. He cannot hope to take away the pain, but he’d like to ease it. 

The two of them walk together to the stone, and Arthur drops to his knees in front of it. He runs his fingers across the faded engravings carved in the language of the Old Religion, and Merlin knows he’s thinking of her last days. Arthur leans back onto his heels, gazing at the stone with a softness that Merlin hasn’t seen in a very long time. A bird chirps from a nearby tree, and Merlin silently tells it to hush.   
“I still remember her as a child,” Arthur murmurs, and Merlin nods slightly to show that he’s listening.   
“She was so fiercely kind, even then. She never once backed down from a challenge, never once stayed quiet. Looking back, I-“ Arthur pauses, hand to his lips. Merlin can see tears shining in his eyes. He turns to stare up at Merlin, as vulnerable as a child.   
“He was so cruel,” he whispers, voice choked with emotion, and Merlin drops to his knees beside him.   
“I know he loved you, Arthur.” Merlin says softly, and Arthur grimaces.   
“He tried to kill me. He tried to kill you.”   
Merlin closes his eyes at the memory of Uther’s ghost standing over Arthur, sword at the ready.   
“Sometimes, I think Morgana was right. To hate him. If I were her, and I went through what she did...” Arthur trails off, but Merlin knows what he means. He draws Arthur closer to him, letting the king melt into him with a shuddering breath.   
“I could’ve helped her,” Merlin whispers, admitting something he’d never dared say aloud, not since her death. “I should have. Maybe then we wouldn’t be here. You would have ruled until an old age, and we might’ve been...happier.”   
Arthur pulls away from Merlin’s embrace and gently turns his face towards his.   
“It’s not your fault. She made her choice. You couldn’t have helped her without risking your life.”   
Merlin sighs. “I know.”   
Arthur swallows and pressed his head into Merlin’s chest. “Merlin, if I’d known all that you went through, I never would have-“  
“Shh.” Merlin runs a hand through his blonde hair, trying to sooth the king.   
“You did your best with Morgana’s hold on magic. I wouldn’t change a thing. If I had to go back right now, I would do it all over again without complaint.”   
Arthur lets out a stifled sob. “You’re too good, Merlin.”   
Merlin smiles a little and lifts Arthur’s face to his own level. “So are you.” 

They go home feeling more open with each other than they ever have before, and Merlin spends the walk delighting Arthur with little works of magic. He grows some flowers from the palm of his hand, blue forget-me-nots that seem a little too on the nose, and weaves them into a crown.   
“Here you are,” he murmurs softly, placing it on Arthur’s head. “Your crown, sire.”   
Arthur chuckled. “You should have one too.”   
Merlin laughs. “Servants don’t get crowns, Arthur.”   
Arthur looks around at the town below them, sleepy beneath the orange sunset. “There’s no Camelot anymore, Merlin. After all you’ve done for me, I think you deserve one.”   
Merlin feels his heart jump a little at the sincerity in Arthur’s voice, but obliges him with a matching crown of his own.   
Arthur places it on his head and runs his fingers through Merlin’s hair. There’s something unsaid between them, but for the moment, they let it hang in the air.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was more of an angsty chapter, but I think they need to talk about these things. The next one will be much more lighthearted, fear not! As always, please leave comments and feedback.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur isn’t the only one rising from the dead.

Miles from Merlin’s cottage, the residents of a small mountain town feel the earth shake and rumble beneath them. From the mountain flies a great white dragon, risen from the dead. Aithusar is her name, and she beats her wings in triumph as she dances through the clouds and across the skies, for she knows that the time of Albion’s great fortune is upon them. 

Meanwhile, the little stone in the clearing in the forest shifts slightly. The sign by the road tilts to the right. A breeze across a river seems to carry up ashes in such a shape as to form a man, and on the banks, the dirt trembles a little. In the preserved ruins of Camelot, the tunnels beneath the soil shake, and the lake beside the palace ripples with anticipation.   
And, even farther away, a mound of rocks on a high hilltop topples over. 

In the middle of the night, King Arthur wakes from his sleep, heart pounding furiously. Just then, Merlin bursts into his room, eyes flickering between golden and blue.   
“Did you feel that?” He cries. He can feel his magic swirling in the depths of his soul, pulling and pushing in every direction.   
Arthur nods, shaken. “It’s as though something has woken.”   
Now, Arthur isn’t usually that dramatic, but the situation calls for it.   
Merlin swallows. He knew Albion’s time would come soon after Arthur rose from the Lake of Avalon, but he had hoped that they would get more time.  
“Merlin.” Arthur has risen from his bed and is now gripping his shoulders. “What do we do?”   
“I...” For the first time in the centuries since Arthur’s death, Merlin is lost for words.   
Words.   
Words!!  
Without another sound, Merlin races out of the house, shouting out the ancient dragon tongue. If his instincts prove him right, then-  
Aithusar, grown, healed from her wounds, and shining as beautifully as the pearls in the ocean, lands with a thud before him.   
“Hello, Emrys,” Aithusar bellows (though she doesn’t mean to), and Merlin almost falls over in his shock. Behind him, Arthur stumbles, evidently having followed Merlin out of the house.   
“Aithusar! You-“ Merlin starts, and Aithusar gives him a wan smile.   
“Yes, I can speak, warlock.” She grins with pride and flaps her wings about with a confidence that Merlin is glad to see.   
“But how-“  
“When you have waited underneath a mountain for centuries, listening to the din of man’s voice, you learn a thing or two. I should thank you, Emrys,” Aithusar bows her head to him. “You have given me a new chance at life. Your magic has caused Arthur to rise from the depths of Avalon, and somehow it has extended to me. And, I believe-“   
“Wait.” Arthur interrupts the dragon, and Aithusar looks a bit affronted. “Merlin was the one who brought me back?”   
Merlin was just as confused. As far as he knew, it was simply what the prophecy had foretold, not his own doing. Aithusar nodded to Arthur.   
“Yes, my king, he did, though I doubt intentionally. Over the centuries, as he has waited and wished for you to be back at his side, he has unknowingly cast an enchantment willing you, and I believe the rest of Camelot, to come back and join him in the new world.”   
“But that doesn’t make sense!” Merlin splutters. “It’s the prophecy, not me-“  
“Warlock,” Aithusar says, a smile in her voice, “the prophecy has and always will revolve around you. You alone have the power to make it happen, and you alone can bring back Arthur with naught hug your sheer love for him.”   
Merlin blushes a deep red, glad for the darkness. Arthur has gone uncharacteristically silent, and he shudders to think of the conversation they’ll be having later. At least Gwaine isn’t here to see this.   
Wait a minute.   
“You said all of Camelot’s former residents?” Merlin calls to the dragon, a pit growing in his stomach.   
“Indeed, Emrys.” Aithusar nods with finality, as though it is all that simple.   
Merlin turns and meets Arthur’s eyes, and sees his own terror reflected back in him.   
“Morgana.” Arthur whispers.   
“Mordred.” Merlin answers, and the word echoes across the silent village with an ominous edge.   
“Yes,” Aithusar says grimly. “But worry not, warlock. I believe Morgana may be much changed by the new world, and perhaps she may influence her brother.”   
Well, Merlin thinks, Aithusar is certainly more helpful than Kilgarrah. 

There is a cry from the forest behind them, and a murder of crows fly from the trees in haste. Merlin feels his magic curl protectively in his gut, prepared as ever to keep Arthur safe.   
Aithusar lowers her voice. “Be still, Emrys. I feel my mistress approach.”   
Merlin quickly rushes to put himself between the oncoming presence and Arthur. He can feel the warm breath of the king upon his neck, and he knows Arthur is afraid. He has no idea how to fight in this world; what to expect. 

The trees seem to part before them, and from the darkness steps Morgana Pendragon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I kind of lied about this being a lighthearted chapter. I’m making up this story as I go along, so hopefully there’ll be a break from the angst soon. As always, please leave comments and feedback. Hope you enjoyed!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morgana and Arthur finally get to talk.

Merlin isn’t going to lie. Morgana looks like shit. 

Her hair is matted with dirt and grass, fingernails dirty from what Merlin assumes was her climb out of the grave. He shivers, hoping that his magic was kind enough to get her back to the world of the living without much pain or struggle. Morgana takes a step forward, her hem tangled with roots. Instinctively, Merlin throws himself in front of Arthur, fully expecting an attack. None comes.   
Morgana sighs. “Relax, Emrys. I’m not going to hurt you. I only wish to see my dragon.”  
Merlin hesitates, but lets her pass, hands itching to grab Arthur and run. Morgana walks by them without so much as a nod. She meets Aithusar with soft words, reaching out to gently stroke her scales. Merlin can feel Aithusar relax, and he knows that the two are experiencing a similar reunion to he and Arthur’s.  
“How you’ve grown, darling,” Morgana murmurs softly, and Aithusar makes a little keening noise of happiness.   
Merlin and Arthur share a look. It had been a long time since they had seen the gentle and caring side of Morgana. 

The two cradle each other for a moment longer, until Morgana, seemingly satisfied with their reunion, turns on Merlin.   
“You killed me,” she says. Her voice is barely above a whisper.   
Merlin nodded. “I had to.”   
“Uther was a tyrant, Merlin.” She spits, eyes alight with fury.   
Merlin levels his gaze upon her. “As were you.”   
Morgana hisses and turns to Arthur. “Has he told you? That after all this time, your precious servant-“  
“I will not harm him.” Arthur answers, and for a minute Merlin can see him in his armour and cape, facing his knights at the Round Table.   
Morgana draws back a little at this. She clearly wants to say something, but Arthur cuts her off before she can even start.   
“Magic was not outlawed for what it was, Morgana. It was outlawed for how you and others used it to abuse the people of my kingdom so that they would bend to you. “ Arthur pauses for a moment. Morgana looks right on the edge of a vicious rage. He clears his throat.   
“I hold no illusions about our father. He was vicious, and the way he treated you-treated us,” at this, his voice becomes a little choked, “was wrong. He was not w good man or king. I know that now.” 

Morgana rolls her eyes. “And what, pray tell, brought on this revelation?”   
Merlin’s magic winds tight with anger, but Arthur beats him to it.   
Softly, he admits the truth. “He tried to kill me.”  
The witty retort Morgana has surely prepared dies on her tongue.   
“He-“  
“I summoned him from the dead for advice. He did not approve of my choice of knights nor wife. He tried to kill both Percival and Guinevere, and nearly succeeded.” Arthur’s tone grows biting now, daring Morgana to challenge him. “I understand why you wanted Uther dead. I can even understand why you rightfully wanted the throne. But what I cannot understand, Morgana,” he seethes, “is your betrayal of your closest friends. You plotted against Guinevere! She had served by your side faithfully since you were a girl, and how do you repay her?” Arthur shakes his head. He doesn’t need to answer the question. “Not only that, but you harmed Gaius and Merlin, who had always been loyal to you! Loyal until the very end, Morgana.”  
“Merlin poisoned me.” Morgana bites back, his name like a knife across her tongue.   
“Because you wanted to kill everybody in Camelot!” Merlin shouts. The old wounds are open now, and still sting bitterly. “I did not want to see my friends die, Morgana, and neither should you.”  
Morgana cannot seem to think of an answer to that, and falls silent, clutching Aithusar. 

Arthur sighs and rubs his hand across his temple. “I do not wish to fight with you anymore, Morgana. It has been centuries since the last battle. Please, allow us to forgive and move on.”   
To Merlin’s surprise, tears are welling up in Arthur’s eyes, and he kneels before her imploringly.   
“You are still my sister,” he says, fighting to keep his voice from shaking.   
Morgana looks upon him, shock evident on her face. She looks to Aithusar, who gives a practically imperceptible nod. She seems to war with herself for a few moments, but then, in a moment truly worthy of legend, she lowers herself to her knees beside Arthur. She takes his hands in her own, and Arthur sobs.   
“And you my brother,” she whispers.   
Merlin feels his heart soar as the two embrace, centuries of tension falling apart. 

There may be hope for Albion yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, let’s talk about Morgana. I relate to her on several levels, and she’s a character that means a lot to me because I could see myself going down the path she did. I don’t think forgiveness comes easily to her, and without Aithusar there to help her I doubt this would’ve gone very well. Please leave feedback, as always, and next chapter there will be the return of an old friend.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin, Arthur, and Morgana come up with a plan to find the others. First up on the list is an old friend...

The next morning dawns cloudy and overcast, and drops of morning dew gather on the plants in Merlin’s garden. 

When Merlin stumbles out of his room, he can’t help but draw back a little at the sight of Morgana, asleep on the pull-out couch in one of Merlin’s old shirts. Though they’ve forgiven each other, he still feels a slight lurch in his stomach when he sees her.   
Arthur did his best to explain the situation to her last night, with the help of Aithusar, and she took it surprisingly well. Of all the people in Camelot, Merlin always thought she would take to the modern world the best. 

He doesn’t have much time to think over their past, though. After all, everyone in Camelot is rising, and Merlin plans to set out with the two Pendragons to find as many of their former friends as possible. That is why (after putting the kettle on) Merlin strolls into Arthur’s room at 6:30 A.M. and draws the curtains.   
“Rise and shine!” He says happily. Waking Arthur up is so familiar and so nostalgic that he feels a faint prick of tears behind his eyes.  
Arthur groans and rolls over in bed.   
“Five more minutes, Merlin.”  
Merlin grins at him fondly. Clearly, not much has changed.   
He strides toward the bed and tugs the covers off of the king, who grimaces and sits up with a glare.   
“Merlin!”   
“Come on now, sire, we’ve got work to do.” Merlin picks out a red flannel and jeans from Arthur’s modern closet and tosses them on the bed. 

Arthur eyes then suspiciously. “What are these?”  
“Clothes. Believe me, they’re much more comfortable than your old ones.”   
Arthur picks up the flannel and sniffs it. It must be to his satisfaction, because he gets up and holds his arms out in front of him.   
“Alright then, Merlin. Hop to it.”   
Merlin raises an eyebrow at him and bites back a laugh. “It doesn’t go on like that. Stand up again.”  
Arthur rolls his eyes, but does so, and Merlin pulls the flannel around him, taking extra care with the buttons.   
This...is slightly more intimate than Merlin remembers, and he finds himself fighting a blush as he works his fingers through the button holes, accidentally brushing Arthur’s chest. 

When he looks up at him, Arthur is gazing at him with lips slightly open, eyes narrowed a bit as if considering something. Merlin feels his face go hot, and quickly turns away.   
“Right. You can do the jeans yourself.”  
Arthur sighs dramatically, but does so, and the two walk quickly out of the room. Morgana is sitting at the counter with a piece of bread that she’s evidently toasted with her magic.   
“Morning, boys,” she says with a smirk in her voice. Her eyes dance across Merlin’s blushing face, and she raises her eyebrows at him slightly. Merlin feels his blush deepen. Quickly, he runs to the pantry and pours out a bowl of the sugary cereal Arthur is so fond of. 

He sets it down on the counter with some milk and claps his hands together briskly.   
Arthur jumps, startled, and Morgana lets out a quiet laugh.   
“Alright then, we have a busy day ahead. Since everyone is rising again, they’re going to be disoriented. Our job is to find the ones who aren’t within Camelot’s old borders. That means Gwaine, Elyan, Gwen, and Mordred.”   
Arthur swallows at the mention of the young sorcerer. Morgana looks tense as she takes another bite of her toast.   
Merlin nods. “It won’t be easy. My idea was that we could split up. Arthur and I can look for Gwaine, Gwen, and Elyan, and Morgana can look for Mordred.” Cautiously, he meets her eyes. She looks back at him, determination written in her expression.   
“I’ll talk to him,” she says, and Merlin and Arthur let out a breath of relief.  
“Great.” Merlin silently reassures himself as the other two eat their breakfast. This will work. 

~~~

They set out after breakfast, Arthur and Merlin to the car and Morgana to Aithusar.   
“Be careful,” Arthur warns her, and she nods grimly.   
With that, she and the white dragon take to the sky, and all Merlin can do is hope.

Since Gwaine’s grave is closer, they’ve decided to start the search with him. When they do reach the road, though, he’s not there.   
Arthur huffs in frustration. “Where could he have gone?”   
Merlin wracks his brain, trying to think of Gwaine’s personality in combination with his town-   
“There’s a pub nearby called the White Stallion. He’s probably gone there.”

Sure enough, when they reach the pub, a full on bar fight has broken out.  
“You know, Merlin,” says Arthur, deadpan as a stool whizzes past them, “I think you’re right.”   
The two stumble through the crowd, picking apart fights and searching for a flash of brown hair. Just as they are about to give up, someone cries out,   
“Behind you!”   
The two men duck quickly, barely avoiding a bottle of wine aimed at their heads. Merlin turns toward the voice.  
There, beating the shit out of a burly man, is Gwaine in his chainmail and cloak, grinning like a fool.  
“Merlin! Princess!” Gwaine knocks the guy out and struts toward them, hair still somehow glorious after centuries beneath dirt. Merlin grins broadly. After all these years, he’s missed the adventurous Irishman.   
“What a curse Morgana’s placed on us now, eh boys?” Somehow, Gwaine is still ever-smiling. Merlin and Arthur exchange a worried look.   
Merlin throws an arm around Gwaine, heart lifting at the sight of his old friend.   
“How about we go have a talk outside?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Admittedly, this is more of a filler chapter, but I couldn’t resist Merlin having those small moments with Arthur and Morgana. Gwaine is back in full force, which I was very excited to write about! I hope you all enjoyed, and as always, please leave comments/feedback.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morgana finds Mordred. Arthur, Merlin, and Gwaine reunite with Gwen and Elyan, but there’s something there that wasn’t before...

Morgana finds Mordred slowly climbing down the hill where he was buried, shoulders hunched and armour dirty. Her heart sinks. This will not be an easy conversation.   
Morgana guides Aithusar down to her brother, watching as he stumbles backward from the great dragon. When he sees her, his face breaks into a wide smile.   
“Morgana!” He cries out, and the sorceress feels a spark of happiness light up her magic. She lands Aithusar and stumbles toward the Druid, arms open for a hug. Mordred obliges her, and the two embrace in that way that makes all of your troubles melt away in an instant. 

When they part, Morgana runs her fingers gently over Mordred’s face, hardly unable to believe he’s here.   
Mordred looks her up and down quizzically. “What are you wearing?”  
Here we go, Morgana thinks, wishing they’d had just a few more seconds of peace before the questions began.   
As to what she’s wearing, it’s a purple jumper and jeans, borrowed from one of Merlin’s neighbours. Her hair is tucked into a neat braid, and her feet are clad in a pair of combat boots.   
Frankly, Morgana much prefers modern clothing to her old corsets and gowns.   
Mordred’s eyes narrow at the sigh Morgana lets escape her. 

“Sit,” she says gently, and gestures to the ground beneath them.   
Mordred does so begrudgingly, and Morgana kneels beside him.   
“This is not the time we came from, Mordred.” Morgana gazes across the valley below them, now thick with houses and roads.   
“What do you mean?”   
“We are centuries from where we began. Instead of horses, there are mechanical machines with wheels, similar to a cart. The clothes are different, as you can see, and Merlin tells me that both technology and medicine are much improved.”   
Mordred’s eyes light with fury. “Merlin!?”  
Morgana places her hand comfortingly over her brother’s. 

“Emrys is not to be feared. He wishes only to protect his king.”   
Mordred is staring at her, incredulous.   
“A king that would see us dead!”  
“No.” Morgana shakes her head. “Mordred, we were wrong. Uther deserved his death, make no mistake. But Arthur kept the law because of me.”   
“You?” Mordred’s brow furrows in confusion. “But...he killed Cara!”   
“I know. It was not for her magic, but for her murder of innocents.” Morgana squeezes Mordred’s hand tighter, praying he doesn’t become angry with her. Mordred is thinking hard, she can tell. Morgana pulls him closer to her.   
“I was wrong, Mordred. I let my spite and hatred towards Uther infect my judgement. Arthur was right to be angry with me.” It’s difficult to admit, but she must. If not, the kingdom would fall to ruin, and magic with it. And, as much as she hated to acknowledge it, she missed Arthur greatly.   
“And Emrys?” Mordred asks, still holding on to old resentments, Morgana knows.   
“He does not wish us harm.” Morgana exhales, and prepares herself for what is coming next.   
“Arthur knows of Merlin’s magic.”

Mordred’s eyes widen, and she knows that a million thoughts are racing through his head.   
“And?”  
“And,” Morgana smiles, “they remain the closest of friends.”   
“So, he will not-“  
“No. I trust him.”   
The two look at each other for a moment, both thinking and considering. Mordred rushes forward and hugs Morgana.   
“I’m glad,” he whispers, and she nods, holding back tears.   
“Me too.” 

***

Arthur and Merlin find Gwen and Elyan waiting by the river. Gwen leaps forward and pulls Merlin into a tight hug.   
“I knew you’d come for us,” she whispers. Elyan and Arthur exchange a quick knight’s greeting, and Arthur can’t help but hug the other knight for real.   
“I’m so glad to see you,” he smiles, and Elyan pats him on the back.   
“It’s been too long,” he says, and Merlin can feel happiness filling the air around them.   
Gwen pulls away from the hug, and she and Arthur’s eyes meet. Gwen swallows, and immediately Merlin knows that something has changed.   
Before they can exchange words, however, Gwaine bursts out of the trees with a happy shout and runs to Elyan, tackling him in a bear hug that leaves both of them giggling in the grass. 

~~~

They meet back at the cottage, Mordred and Morgana waiting for them on the couch. Arthur almost immediately whisks the younger knight to the garden, where Merlin is sure they’ll be having quite a long conversation.   
Foolishly, Merlin quite neglected to think of the others’ reactions upon seeing Morgana.   
Sure enough, the second Gwaine entered the cottage, he drew his sword with a cry.   
“You might have bested me once, but you will not again. Merlin, get behind me.”   
Merlin quickly steps between the two of them, wincing at the strong wave of magic coming from Morgana.   
“Gwaine, it’s fine. She’s not going to hurt us.”   
“You don’t know that!” Gwaine shouts, eyes wild, and Merlin gears up for a fight. 

Before anything can happen, though, Morgana rises from her place on the couch and stands before Gwaine.  
“I swear on my mother’s life. I will not harm you.”   
Gwaine falters and glances to Merlin for guidance. The warlock nods, and Gwaine hesitantly sheathes his sword.  
“If I see anything to the contrary-“  
“You won’t.” Morgana looks him dead in the eye, honest and open. Gwaine considers for a moment, but nods and holds out his hand to her. The two shake hands in a knight’s salute, and Merlin sighs in relief. 

Seemingly out of thin air, Gwen steps forward, eyes hopeful. Morgana meets them, and something flits across her face that Merlin cannot quite explain. Morgana holds out her arms gently, and Gwen rushes into them.   
The two women embrace with much tears and whispered secrets, and Gwaine and Elyan exchange an uncomfortable glance.   
Merlin suppresses a giggle. 

Just then, Arthur and Mordred emerge, both with red eyes. Merlin risks a quick look at Arthur, and he answers the silent question with an almost imperceptible nod. Merlin grins. This is turning out better than he could have hoped for.   
Except for one thing.   
“I haven’t got enough room for all of you,” he says anxiously.   
“Don’t worry, we’re knights. We can sleep on the floor.” Elyan offers graciously, and Gwaine throws an arm around him as a sign of agreement.   
Merlin looks nervously to Gwen, but Arthur beats him to it.   
“You can sleep in my bed, Guinevere.”   
Gwen’s eyes flit around the room nervously, and Arthur rushes to console her.   
“Not together, of course,” he says hurriedly. “I am happy to sleep with my knights.”   
Merlin bites back a laugh. He really must teach Arthur modern slang. 

“Thank you, Arthur,” Gwen smiles obligingly, and there are clear traces of relief in her expression.   
Merlin and Gwaine exchange a confused glance. Surely after all these years they’d want to be together, right?   
Elyan clearly doesn’t think much of it, because he pats Arthur on the back with a grin.   
“Still as kind to my sister as ever,” he says, and Arthur plays along with a forced laugh.   
Morgana looks over at him worriedly. This is odd, they all agree.

Merlin doesn’t have much time to worry about that, though. He and Mordred go to grab some blankets from the hall closet got the knights, and Merlin is pleasantly surprised to find that Mordred converses with him as easily as he had before Cara.  
Part of Arthur’s talk with him must have included Merlin.  
The two walk back with plenty of blankets for all the men (Merlin has given up his bed for Morgana).   
Merlin makes his small bed next to Arthur’s, and is forcibly reminded of all the times they would camp out together on a hunting trip. Those were some of their best talks, when they were both open with each other, and the firelight would hit Arthur’s face in just the right-

Whoa, Merlin. Slow down. He’s still got a queen, after all. It’s high time to put those feelings away.  
Still, it’s hard to ignore the beating of his heart and the flutter in his stomach when Arthur rolls over to look at him, golden eyelashes framing blue irises.   
Merlin swallows. This is going to be an issue.   
“Get some sleep, Merlin,” Arthur whispers fondly. He reaches out to comfortingly squeeze his shoulder, and Merlin feels his cheeks go a bit red.   
“You too, Arthur,” Merlin murmurs, and both men roll back over, hearts beating quickly.   
A few feet away, Gwaine and Elyan share a smirk. 

After all these centuries, the king and his manservant are still idiots.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let! Them! Have! Redemption!  
> Morgana and Mordred’s situations always saddens me to no end. Both of them were so trapped, and I hope through this story they can be somewhat free. As always, I hope you enjoyed, and please leave comments!


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The gang takes a trip to the old ruins of Camelot...or at least, they used to be ruins.

Merlin wakes up early the next day, ready to plan and set out to find the others. That is, until he scrolls through the news on his phone, and discovers that the tourists have found them for him. 

‘Camelot’s Castle Fully Restored Overnight’  
‘Actors Playing Knights are a Little Too Committed’  
‘King Arthur’s Return-What You Need to Know’

Merlin shoots out of his blankets with a jolt.   
“Get up!” He shouts, and he hears doors fly open and Gwaine crying out in confusion.   
“Get up, get up, get up!” Merlin rushes around to the men, pulling off blankets and heart thrumming in panic.   
“Merlin-“  
“Don’t start, Arthur. This is bad.” Merlin sprints to his room and changes into his clothes quickly, ignoring Morgana’s yelp of surprise.   
“What is it, what’s bad?” Arthur asks from the living room.   
Merlin pokes his head out the door, eyes wide. “I accidentally brought back all of Camelot.”   
Arthur rolls his eyes. “Yes, Merlin, I know that-“  
“No! You don’t understand! I brought back the entire castle! The U.K. just got a very sudden population increase!” Merlin rushes into Arthur’s room and throws some of the modern clothes at him and the others.   
“Get dressed, everyone. We have some serious explaining to do.”

~~~

“Remind me again why you chose to live so far away, Merlin,” Arthur groans in frustration.   
The lot of them are packed into Merlin’s magically enlarged car, racing (at a pace that is definitely not legal) to Camelot.   
“Five more minutes, Arthur. No need to panic.”   
Merlin distinctly hears Mordred’s eyes roll from the backseat. “That’s all you’ve done this entire morning.”   
Merlin risks a glance back to shoot him a glare. He, Gwaine, and Elyan-who looks positively terrified-are pressed together, Mordred looking disgruntled and Gwaine with his head out the window like a dog.  
Morgana and Gwen are a row behind them, hands held tightly together in fear.  
Merlin turns back to the road, and within minutes, they’ve arrived. 

Camelot’s familiar towers rise majestically from the green hill where it has been for centuries. Merlin feels the breath leave them all. Next to him, Arthur is distinctly holding back tears. Merlin reaches his hand to his and squeezes it quickly. Arthur looks at him with eyes so grateful that he feels his stomach drop.   
He swallows and turns back to the castle.   
“Well,” he breathes, “let’s do this.”

When they reach the citadel, they find Leon at the head of a barricade holding back the tourists. Percival is next to him, shield in his hand and eyes fierce. Gwaine lets out a roar and pushes through the crowd, making his way to the other knights. The rest of the group follows him, Elyan at the head and pushing through much more gently. Finally, Morgana rolls her eyes and utters a quick spell. Merlin sighs in relief as the tourists turn around with talks of lunch and Big Ben. He’s never been fond of crowds.   
Now free of the tourists, they rush to the knights, Leon’s eyes wide at the sight of Morgana. Arthur rushes to him and mumbles a quick explanation of all that he can. 

The attention is quickly diverted from the king as Gwaine dips Percival and kisses him with such passion that Merlin can’t help but laugh. Elyan lets out a whoop, and Gwen claps her hands together happily. Mordred, to his left, giggles quietly. Merlin grins. He hasn’t been this happy in centuries.   
The next hour is a flurry of hugs and reunions and tears. Elyan is embraced by his fellow knights with a great happy commotion, particularly by Leon, who cries for the first time that Merlin has ever seen.   
The hour after that is a long and detailed explanation of the events that brought them all back, and the next hour one of planning and strategy for what to do next.   
By the time they all collapse in their old rooms, the whole castle is exhausted. Merlin stumbles back through the halls, muscle memory guiding him to his old home. He’s almost forgotten about what awaits him, but there, sitting at the table with his glasses on and a book open, is Gaius. 

Merlin lets out a strange choked noise in surprise. Gaius looks up from his book and smiles knowingly.   
“I assume this is your doing, Merlin?” He says, and Merlin forgot how much he missed his voice.   
He rushes to him, and the two hug so tightly that Merlin is half afraid he’ll crush Gaius’s old bones. Merlin presses his head into the physician’s neck, tears streaming down. Gaius, though he’ll never admit it, is crying too, and clutches Merlin closer.   
After what seems like years, the two part, and Gaius quickly wipes away his tears.   
“Oh, I’ve missed you, my boy.”   
Merlin lets out a single laugh through his tears, and suddenly he’s as young as he was all those years ago.   
“I don’t even know how I survived without you,” he chokes out, and Gaius laughs.   
“I’m sure you did just fine on your own. After all, you’ve brought back an entire palace!”   
Merlin shakes his head. “It wasn’t the same by myself.”   
“I can imagine.” Gaius peers at him thoughtfully over his glasses. “It couldn’t have been easy.”  
“No,” Merlin says grimly, “no, it wasn’t.”   
Gaius considers him for a second more and gets to his feet.   
“Well, we’re here now.” He smiles and gently squeezes Merlin’s shoulder. “You must be tired. Go and sleep, Merlin. Can’t have you dying from exhaustion just when you’ve gotten us back.”   
Merlin laughs and stumbles to his feet, trotting up the familiar stairs to bed. 

As he falls asleep that night to the smells and sounds he hasn’t heard in years, he knows he won’t have to be alone again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprisingly I’ve found Gaius the easiest character to write so far. I wonder why that is, but it’s probably because we’re both sarcastic and slightly grumpy. I also had some fun adding in that Gwaine and Percival moment. I hope you enjoyed! As always, please leave comments and feedback.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur makes a speech to the people of the U.K.

A month later, and much has changed. Gwen and Arthur have officially split up, much to the surprise of everyone. Though Merlin has no idea the romantic reasons, Gwen’s political reasons were quite clear: 

“I’ve ruled for a lifetime already, Arthur.” She said, eyes tired. “As much as I love this kingdom, I cannot do it again in the way I did before.”   
She knelt in front of Arthur in the throne room and placed her crown on the floor before her.   
“I hereby rescind my duties as Queen, and pray that my decision is wise and will not result in despair.”   
The knights were rather shocked by the declaration, but not Arthur. A week before Gwen’s statement to the kingdom, Arthur had cautiously explained to Merlin that they were no longer to be married. Merlin had asked more information-it did seem very sudden, after all-but none came. Arthur seemed determined to keep it secret. Merlin let him, of course. He figured that it was some sort of pride thing, and that Gwen might have “dumped” him in an embarrassing fashion. 

Not only this, but a week ago, Arthur repealed his ban on magic and appointed Merlin the court sorcerer. A few were angry and shocked, but most seemed to be in favour of the decision. Gwen was appointed royal advisor, and Morgana the representative of all magical peoples throughout the kingdom. Mordred’s position as knight was returned to him (much to the delight of his fellow brethren, who welcomed him with open arms.   
Gwaine and Percival, meanwhile, were well on their way to becoming the first same-sex couple married within Camelot’s borders. Merlin had already lost count of the amount of times he’d found them snogging in an alcove or underneath some stairs.   
Gaius remained the court physician, of course. In fact, he was soon to be on his way to medical school, to give the people of Camelot a more...modern treatment. 

As for the outside world, they remain confused and shocked. At first, most thought that it was a publicity stunt made by the company that ran tours, but a genealogist assured the public that Arthur’s DNA did match up with the kings of old. Now, all that the kingdom has to do is assure its loyalty to Great Britain, which will take place in 3...2...1...  
“You’re on, sire.” The camerawoman says, and Merlin feels Arthur tense next to him.   
He clears his throat and raises his head tall and proud, doing his best to look directly into the camera. 

“People of the United Kingdom, I address you today as Arthur Pendragon, the Once and Future King of Camelot. Beside me stand my closest friend and court sorcerer, Merlin, and my sister, the Lady Morgana Pendragon.” Arthur pauses, and Merlin can see him trying to remember what’s next in his speech. There is nothing Arthur hates more than memorisation.   
Arthur clears his throat and continues, saying,   
“It is my sworn duty to protect and care for the people within this kingdom. Now, that includes all the people of this country. We do not wish for Camelot to become a sovereign nation, but rather for it to be treated as a different sect of the government. Whenever you may need my help on political issues or otherwise, know that my full council will be at your service. You make seek advice on anything, so long as it is reasonable and not invasive.” 

Arthur glances to Merlin and begins the second half of the speech.   
“There is also the matter of magic. Merlin has told me that your kingdom has long prospered without the knowledge of such tools. However, in ours, magic was and will most likely remain a frequently debated topic among our people. As king, I must ensure the safety of all of my subjects. Therefore, I have chosen to repeal the centuries old ban on its practices, so that my people may live in peace and without fear. I understand,”   
Arthur says, eyes gaining a glint of ferocity, “that this will be confusing for you. There is one thing you must promise not to do, no matter what, and it is this: you must never harm any of the magical peoples of my kingdom, or you will have me to face. I assure you, that is not something you want.”   
He pauses again, and this time Merlin reaches forward to squeeze his hand gently. Arthur smiles at him gratefully.   
“Merlin and Morgana tell me that having magic is quite similar to being a member of the LGBTQ community, in that they cannot control it. They are born with it, and they cannot force it to go away. It is not a choice. I ask that you understand this and treat them with the respect they deserve.”  
Arthur kneels, sword placed in front of him, and the camera rushes to follow the movement.   
“I swear upon my sword that, as long as I am King of Camelot, no harm may befall the United Kingdom so long as none befalls us. We will aid you with whatever you require so long as it is reasonable. Should you need political advice, it is granted. Should you wish to understand our old time and history better, we will be happy to tell you as much as you’d like. Should you require further understanding of magic, we will provide it for you. May our citizens and kingdoms live together in peace and harmony until the end of our days.” 

“Until the end of our days,” the crowd behind him repeats (including Merlin and Morgana), and with that the broadcast is ended.   
The camera crew begins to pack up, and just as they are about to leave, one of the reporters stops them. Quickly, she walks toward the Pendragons and Merlin, and does a strange attempt at a curtsy before Arthur.   
She smiles a bit awkwardly. “I don’t want to be rude, but I was just wondering...”  
“Yes?” Arthur asks, eyes kind.   
“Well, it’s just that I didn’t know magic existed up until a few moments ago, and if you don’t mind,” she says, turning to Morgana, “I’d very much like to see a bit of it.”   
Merlin feels his heart stumble. After centuries of hiding, these people are actively seeking out magic and what it can do already. Within Morgana’s eyes is the same thought, and she nods obligingly to the woman.   
“Then you shall have your wish.”   
Morgana utters a quick spell, and before everyone’s eyes butterflies appear from her fingertips and rise into the air, then fade into flower petals and sink around the reporter’s head. The woman looks in Morgana in wonder.   
“Thank you,” she says thoughtfully, and she is quickly gone, flower petals still in her hair. 

Morgana grins. “That was incredible.”  
Merlin knows what she means. To do magic in public without the fear of death...it is no small change. Arthur wraps a brotherly arm around her shoulders, and together they all walk back to the castle. The Golden Age of Albion is upon them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To think about Gwen ruling a kingdom for her entire life and then waking up only to have to do it again...she would be exhausted. Perhaps the other reasons were ones of losing feelings over years of separation, or she might have even taken another husband. It’s all for you to speculate. As for Arthur, I think we all know he’s in love with someone else. As always, I hope you enjoyed, and please leave comments and feedback!


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur calls Merlin in to see him.

About a week later, Merlin stands outside the king’s chamber doors. He’s dressed in a purple t-shirt and dark jeans, his old brown jacket slung about his shoulders. And, of course, he’s wearing his red neckerchief. The feeling of the familiar fabric is comforting against his skin.   
There’s something new, as well. He’s got glasses. After a quick examination from Gaius upon his return to Camelot, it was immediately apparent that Merlin was nearsighted. Now, his prescription has arrived. The glasses themselves are of average size, round with thin blue frames that sit on the bridge of his nose. Gwen told him that they bring out his eyes. Morgana passed him on the way here, and the double take she did was so funny that they were both laughing within seconds.   
But that isn’t the only new thing. On Merlin’s wrist, small and unnoticeable if you aren’t looking, is a tiny tattoo of a dragon. It’s fairly minimalist, made out of a single curving line that forms the head, chest, wings, and tail. At the moment, it is resting, but if Merlin simply directs some magic toward it...  
There. A fiery gold dragon dances and flies across his skin, leaping around his arm and up to his shoulder, then settling happily behind his ear. Merlin smiles. He likes it quite a bit more than he expected.

Just then, Arthur opens the door.   
“Merlin!”  
“Good morning, sire,” Merlin says, voice lifting playfully at the title. “You wanted to see me?”   
“Yes. Uh, come in.” Arthur seems nervous as Merlin walks through the door, and he shuts it quietly behind them.   
There’s a long moment of silence. Merlin doesn’t really know what he wants from him. All Arthur is doing is fidgeting with his hands and avoiding Merlin’s gaze. Arthur lets out a shaky breath, and Merlin feels his anxiety spike.   
“What’s wrong, Arthur?” He asks gently.   
Arthur swallows and turns away from him, twisting his ring about his finger.  
“I just-“ he stops and thinks for a moment. “The new servant is polite and boring, and he always serves me my favourite foods and gets my bath exactly right.”   
Merlin rolls his eyes, fully expecting a lecture on his old failures. Arthur turns back to him and meets his eye briefly.   
“It’s unbearable.”   
There’s a confused moment of quiet before Merlin lets out a laugh. Arthur does too, though it’s reserved and quiet. The two lapse once again into silence. 

“ I missed you, Merlin.”   
Merlin’s breath catches. Arthur is looking at him now, and Merlin can feel something important about to happen.   
“I still miss you. I can’t stand it. You’re not there in the morning with horrible oatmeal, you’re not there at practice distracting the knights, you’re not there at meetings with a pitcher of water that you conveniently spill on the man I dislike, you’re just-“ Arthur stops. “You’re not there like you should be.”   
This is about the most emotion Arthur’s ever willingly admitted. Merlin smiles softly and places a hand on Arthur’s shoulder, firm and reassuring.   
“I’m still here, Arthur. Look, you called me to your room and I came. You’re not getting rid of me that easily.” Merlin smirks a little at the old joke, and a smile dances at Arthur’s lips before he pulls away. He’s frustrated now. Merlin can tell by the way his eyebrows have gone all cross. 

“But it’s not the same,” he says.   
Merlin sighs. “I know. But hey, at least I’m still in the castle, right? You can see me any time you want.”  
In truth, he’s been feeling the slight ache of separation just as badly as Arthur. There have been several days where he wakes up and goes to the kitchens to get the king’s breakfast out of habit, and only too late realises that he’s not his servant anymore.   
It’s a strange feeling, and it makes his heart sting whenever he thinks about it.   
“It’s not nearly as often as I’d wish,” Arthur murmurs, and there’s something in his tone that makes Merlin flush pink. Arthur turns to him, eyes sad, and for a moment the boy he met centuries ago in the citadel is looking back at him.   
“I want you by my side from when I wake up every morning to when I fall asleep at night. I hadn’t realised it before, Merlin,” he tries to put the old inflection into his name, but fails, “but I...I need you with me.” 

Merlin’s heart skips a beat.   
“I could be your servant again,” he offers, “I don’t think it would interfere with my court sorcerer duties too much.”   
Arthur shakes his head and steps closer.   
“That’s not what I mean.”   
Merlin’s pulse is racing now. For once in his immortal life, he takes a risk that’s purely for himself. Not for anyone else. Just for him.   
“Then what do you mean?” He asks.   
Arthur draws closer, so much so that Merlin can feel tiny puffs of breath on his skin.  
“I think you know.”   
And Merlin does. God, he knows. That dull, aching pain of loneliness and isolation. The tears he sobbed for years before he physically couldn’t anymore. That memory of him clutching Arthur on the grass, his hand to the back of Merlin’s head and whispering “just hold me, please.”   
Merlin nods and dares to look Arthur directly in the eye.   
“I do,” he whispers. 

The next moment, Arthur has his arm around his waist, hand in his hair, and Merlin is kissing him, pressing forward and leaning in as much as he can. His hands are behind Arthur’s neck, and he can feel the tickle of his hair against his forearms. Arthur draws Merlin in closer, mouth still pressed insistently against his, and gently, Merlin opens his mouth slightly. Arthur reciprocates, and he can feel his magic curling in his stomach, rising up into his throat and travelling straight into the kiss, sending shocks through both of them. It feels, finally, as though they’re uniting into someone, as though they’re completely and utterly whole together.  
They part, breathing embarrassingly heavily, and Merlin rests his forehead against Arthur’s.   
They let the moment hang in the air, drawn between them as tightly as a bowstring.   
He notices, vaguely, that his dragon tattoo has travelled all the way to Arthur now, and is resting against the prince’s neck. That in itself makes his heart clench tightly. 

Merlin nudges slightly forward and presses a quick kiss to Arthur’s lips.   
“I missed you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that’s the end! I hope you’ve all enjoyed this story as much as I’ve enjoyed writing it. There will definitely be more Merlin content from our account in the future, don’t worry. I hope this ending satisfied, and if you’d like to, I’d love to hear your thoughts in the comments. Thank you for making it this far!

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! So this is my very first Merlin fic. I actually finished the series yesterday, and the ending broke me so badly that I knew I wanted to write the possibilities of their future. I hope you enjoy, and as always, leave comments! (There will be multiple chapters)


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